


Dear Noctis

by ADyingFlower



Series: Noctis Appreciation Week [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dark, Erotomania, Kidnapping, M/M, Obsession, Stalking, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 06:17:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADyingFlower/pseuds/ADyingFlower
Summary: Prompt: Words left unspokenNoctis knew in all honesty he should tell somebody about the letters. It started almost innocently, a letter under his pillow in his childhood room back at the Citadel, quiet observations written so stunningly his breath was stolen right out of his chest. So he kept it a secret, the words of adornment close to his heart.But then the letters kept coming. Sometimes just a couple times a month, other times he would wake to them scattered over his floor like rose petals.By then, he was too scared of his admirer than flattered, and much too proud to admit he had made a fatal mistake.





	Dear Noctis

**Author's Note:**

> ....I wrote more yandere?

There was another letter today.

“Something the matter?” He heard Ignis ask from the kitchen, voice bright with good cheer from the happiness and glow from the afternoon. And why shouldn’t they be? Ignis had just won an award today at his college for his thesis, and the entire afternoon has been lit in a soft gold, sparkling in the sun like Prompto’s hair or Gladio’s booming laughs.

He swallowed, eyes never drifting from the delicate _Noctis_ written on the envelope in eye searing red, bursting like cherries clenched between teeth.

“No, nothing at all, just some ads!” Noctis called back, already leaning down to pick up the other letter to drop in his hidden stash in his room. Making this letter…

His stomach bottomed out. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, forcing away the residues of panic that lingered in his chest each time he thought about it.

Making this letter one hundred and thirty six.

 

Noctis knew in all honesty he should tell somebody about the letters. It started almost innocently, a letter under his pillow in his childhood room back at the Citadel, quiet observations written so stunningly his breath was stolen right out of his chest. So he kept it a secret, the words of adornment close to his heart.

But then the letters kept coming. Sometimes just a couple times a month, other times he would wake to them scattered over his floor like rose petals.

By then, he was too scared of his admirer than flattered, and much too proud to admit he had made a fatal mistake.

 

When his friends left that afternoon, Noctis sat himself down and mentally prepared himself to read letter one hundred and thirty six. Sliding his thumb easily over the opening, he pulled out the beautifully designed paper that smell distantly of sharp spices, as usual.

_Dear Noctis,_

_Oh how I have missed you, my dear. Life without you has been dreadfully dreary, and it is with great eagerness that we approach your sixteenth birthday. Does the occasion not fill yourself with the greatest of joys? We will finally be able to meet face to face my love. I will be able to hold your face in my hands and drink in those bewitching eyes of yours. I have long spoken of lengths about your eyes, the ability to make any man kneel before you simply with those exquisite eyes of yours. What I would give to see them directed at me for the rest of your life. May the stars guide us forever more for you to be mine. See you in a month._

_Your Love_

 

When he was eight years old, he woke up to his father at his beside, a crippling emptiness below his waist, and the crinkle of paper underneath his head.

 _Truly was love on first sight,_ the letter read, but that didn’t make sense? The only ones there were his father’s guards and his nursemaid, who have either met him before or are currently dead.

 

“Are you alright, Noct?” Ignis asked softly, brushing into Noct’s room with suspiciously light feet and settling down next to him on his bed, hand softly rubbing his back.

Noctis sniffed, not wanting to admit what was storming in his brain. It’s been _years_ since the letters began, but his sixteenth birthday was fast approaching and it was the first time his admirer had admitted to wanting to meet him.

No, not wanting. They were going to meet, and if his admirer had managed to get into his bedroom at the Citadel at least once a month, then there was no hope of him hiding the night away.

“No,” He spoke at last, staring resolutely at the pillow, knowing far too well that that if he even chanced a look at Ignis he would crack. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Ignis hesitated, hand lingering on his back, before - “Of course, your highness.”

The door closed behind his advisor, unshed tears burning brands across his eyes.

 

He had only once tried to throw away a letter. It had been months since the first ones flooded his room, and the particular one had been the trigger on an already awful day. He had torn it to shreds, and then burnt the remains of it until it was only ashes floating through the Citadel’s gardens, off into the night sky that never fell asleep.

That night, he had gone to bed lighter than he had in years.

Until he woke up that was.

Stumbling out of bed, he spun around in a circle in the vast room, eyes darting to every corner as his feet retraced the same steps over and over again, dizziness and panic alike clouding his mind until he collapsed to his knees on the cold tile floor, gaze stunned as he stared at the wall directly across the bed, where most of the writing was written in furious, slanted letters that dripped almost lazily like blood across the previous light grey walls.

 _Noctis Noctis Noctis Noctis NoCTiS NOcTiS NOCTIS NOCTIS N O C T I S WHY WHY WHY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY I’LL KILL YOU I’LL KILL YOU IF YOU DO IT AGAIN I’LL KILL YOU I’LL YOU I’LL KILL YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU I’LL RIP YOUR THROAT OUT LOVE YOU SO MUCH LOVE YOU LOVE ME LOVE ME LOVE ME LOVE ME LOVE ME_ -

He leaned right over his knees and retched all over the floor.

 

Noctis practically stuck to Gladio’s sides during the week before his birthday. Shadowed his every step, flat out pulled a tantrum when someone tried to send him home, even took the floor of Gladio’s room without complaint. He knew it looked suspicious, hell even his father looked worried about the way he trailed after Gladio like a puppy dog. But it was necessary. Even if the Citadel isn’t safe, Gladio can protect him. Gladio’s always protected him, right?

“Okay, kid.” Gladio blurts out when he finds Noctis lingering around the restroom door, eyes casting around suspiciously and hand clenched around a dagger in his pocket. “You either tell me what has you in a paranoid tizzy or I bring this up to the King and have him guilt you into it.”

Fuck. Godammit. He can’t tell his father, no he can’t find out what a security risk Noctis put himself through over the last couple of years, then it would be all this guilt and shame and he couldn’t handle that.

Could be just a false alarm, he reasons to himself, but he’s not stupid. His admirer wants Noctis in a way Noctis can’t even imagine, has probably wanted him that way since he was eight (and if that thought doesn’t fill him disgust).

“I…” He hesitated, thoughts left unspoken in his mouth. “Car, we’ll talk in the car.”

Like a switch has been flipped, Gladio’s eyes narrowed and full shield mode comes on, throwing an arm over his shoulder that would look casual to anyone looking, but would allow his body to be tossed to protection at any time as he was escorted to the car, Gladio roughly starting it before taking an unfamiliar route back home.

“Talk.” Gladio said, but not unkindly.

Noctis clenched his hands. It was now or never. “I’ve been getting letters. Stalking, invasive letters about things people outside of me, you, Prom and Iggy shouldn't know about. They’ve...been leaning towards sexual lately, and keep talking about meeting me on my birthday.”

Gladio’s hands were clenched so hard around the wheel they were white. “Fuck.”

Noctis couldn’t agree more, and now that the floodgates were open he couldn’t stop. “I’m scared, I’m really scared Gladdy please, I don’t want to sleep alone.”

He got such a look of fierce protection that some of his fears were assured just by that. “You won’t, Noct. I’m your shield, you’ll be fine and I’ll punch a creep where the sun doesn’t shine. But we gotta get security on this, like right now. I don’t want you going anywhere without at least two guards from now on, okay? We have codes for stalkers like these, we’ll deal with them and it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” He rasped, pressing his hand against the window. A briefest flash of red in the crowd they passed by, an amused grin under a hat.

His mind jumped to the letter that was slid under Gladio’s door this morning.

_Run and hide all you want love, that only makes the chase all that more exciting. I will find you and drag you from the ends of the world itself, there is no escape from me._

Gladio might say otherwise, but a sinking feeling in his stomach told him there was no running from this.

 

Noctis has had way too many near death experiences than any kid under fifteen should feel comfortable about. Most of them were easy to explain away things; daemon attacks, another assassination attempt, falling down the stairs.

But colds? Colds were a bit harder to explain.

His entire body ached furiously, and while lying down had done some good for his runny nose, not much else could be said for his cough, phlegm coming up each time he dared to even breath deeper than normal. Ignis had finally just stopped checking in on him every five minutes, thank the astrals. Probably fell asleep on the couch in the communal area, it was some ungodly hour of the morning after all.

Time passed in splotches, every breath a battle now. He thinks, maybe, he should have woken Ignis up the first time he coughed so hard he threw up in the sick bucket.

The breeze from the open window felt refreshing on his damp skin, slick with sweat and who really wants to know what else.

Wait…Did he open the window? That doesn’t make sense, it’s snowing outside and he has this stupid -

Cold hands press on each side of his face, a chuckle in his hair. Someone is straddling him, cupping his face between their hands while sniffing his hair, tender kisses down his temple and over his closed eyes. He scrunches up his face, managing to open his eyes, but everything was blurry beyond belief and he could only vaguely make out colors and shapes.

“Shh,” The stranger - man - whispered, fingertips ghosting along his cheekbones as another forehead settled against his. “Blessed Stars of Life and Light, deliver us from darkness’ blight.”

A warm glow filled his chest, expanding outward and shredding everything in his past.

For what felt like the first time in weeks, he opened his eyes and thought clearly.

 

Prompto dropped his bag off on the couch, scooting right against Noct’s side and stealing a chip from the bowl in his lap. “Dude, who are all those scary guards chilling in the hallway?”

Noctis didn’t look up from slaying his virtual enemies with a passion. “I have a stalker who’s threatening to probably kidnap me and put me in a rape dungeon on my birthday.”

The blond swallowed. “...Oh.”

“Oh is right.”

Everything hurt. It was three days until his birthday, and already the constant surveillance was beginning to unnerve him. He’s only been on lockdown this severe once before, and he was too drugged out on pain medication to stop him from realizing he couldn’t move his legs for the majority of it.

After a moment of tense silence, he dropped the remote and turned to Prompto with a remorseful expression. “Sorry Prom, I’m just super stressed out right now and I think my head is actually going to explode.”

Prompto relaxed with a smile, already scooting on the couch next to him. “It’s cool. Let’s just play videogames until the sun rises and crash for 48 hours, capache?”

Noctis smiled back, and while it was a wobbly one it serve its intended job, Prompto fully relaxing with a laugh and inputting Smash into the Wii.

That’s the scene where the Crownsguard stumbled upon hours later, her face pale and eyes shadowed by dark bags. “Your highness….?

He sighed; by her expression, no one had died or was severely injured by whatever this was, so it was either horrifying or inhumane.

Horrifying, he realized with a tone of dull shock deep inside his brain, because written right across the front of his apartment building in (red, always red) spraypaint were the words:

_I will have my prize, one way or the other._

 

When he was ten, he dreamt he was standing in a field of sylleblossoms waist high, nothing but purple flowers as far as the eye could see except for the tea table in front of him.

Under the shadowed umbrella, a blackened hand reached out and poured him a cup of tea, silently beckoning him to sit and eat with the monster in human form. With great hesitation for a body too young, he clambered onto the opposing seat, shivering at the temperature drop now that he wasn’t under the cloudless sky.

Still, the man across from him was shadowed completely, delicately holding the tea cup all the same as if afraid it would shatter under the lightest of touches.

He took a sip from his own tea, nearly jolting in surprise. It was good!

The man laughed, a little chuckle that held both hostility and fondness. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, Noctis."

The wind picked up, stirring up the flowers beneath their feet and sending Noct’s hair into his face. Something large flapped behind him, and he realized dimly that it was a hat, sent tumbling from the wind and into the beyond.

Gazing up at the man, the same man who wrote him letters religiously and took care of him when he was sick, the same man who stalked his every waking moment and even his nightmares, who wrote in blood along his walls out of love and presented thousands of _Dear Noctis_.

…His hair was the same color as the ink he wrote in.

 

The man on the stairs have been waiting for him.

Noctis draws to a stop, tuning Ignis out through the phone held loosly in one hand, groceries for Ignis to bake a cake for tonight.

Four Crownsguard litter the ground between Noctis and him, and in that time he brings up the phone to his mouth once more. “Iggy, we’re all out of salt and I’m worried that there’s not enough paprika to go with it.”

Ignis’ line goes deathly silent. “We’ll meet you on the stairwell, try and keep them distracted -"

His advisor’s line is cut off with a wave of the hand from the man on the stairwell.

“Dear Noctis,” The man purrs, stepping over the bodies and lifting a hand as if to stroke his cheek, but instead darts forward to grab handfuls of his hair to his startled scream. “Oh, how I relish in this meeting of ours, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut it short. We’ll have all the time in the world after this, though.”

His vision goes black.

 

When Ignis and Gladio break to a stop, weapons in hand, not a soul to be seen except for the single phone discarded on the floor, a blinking text message half finished.

_I M  S O R R Y_

 

Noctis woke up on an unfamiliar bed. His hands were fastened together in front of him with some sort of belt like contraption, almost as if he was praying. A thick collar wrapped around his neck was leashed to some high point in the ceiling, just enough slack to taunt him, he’s sure.

He tries to summon his weapons. Nothing. Magic? Nothing.

“Oh, love of mine.” His admirer spoke, having watched him struggle to consciousness the whole time. “I believe I forgot to introduce myself, how terribly rude. Ardyn Lucis Caelum, at your service."

Noctis gaped at him, and in that time Ardyn approached the bed, climbing on top of it and _ov_ _er him._

Steely fingers grasped his chin. “Oh, dear Noctis, the two of us are going to have some fun together.”

Ardyn leaned over him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before whispering a secret for his and his ears alone to hear. “And we’ll have plenty of time to enjoy it.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ardynoct is MY TRASH SAVE MY SOUL  
> Feel free to hit me up on anything, for anything. I love hearing from you guys, it makes my day!


End file.
